A Series of Occurrences
by starrysky7
Summary: A series of one-shots centered around my OC, Clara, that take place during various movies set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
1. Chapter 1 - BuckyxClara

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners**

 **This will be a series of one-shots, featuring my oc, Clara, set during various Marvel films. Some of them will follow prompts, and I would like to give credit to the tumblr users natalieroleplays and witterprompts.**

 **IMPORTANT: Anything set before Captain America: Civil War can be considered 'canon' for my Clara stories. Anything afterwards will depend on the events of the film.**

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 **Chapter One**

 _Prompt: "Just pretend to be my date"_

Clara had reached the end of a long shift, and was just leaving the hospital, when she was greeted by what has become a familiar sight. Bucky was leaning against the lamppost, hands shoved in his pockets, legs crossed over the other. Arrogance and charm were practically oozing from every pore of him. And, Clara was sure, that if he kept showing up like he had been for the past few nights, her resolve would crumble from the cheeky grin, that she was sure had enticed many women before her.

"I just can't get rid of you" she said, walking down the steps to meet him

"You wouldn't dream of it" he said, pushing himself off the post, falling into step beside her,

They had fallen into a routine, these past few days. He would wait outside for her, no matter how long she took, and he would walk her home. The walk would be filled with conversation, that never bored her in the slighted. He would never push her for the date she knew he wanted. He was always respectful, keeping himself at an appropriate distance, unless she indicated otherwise. In all aspects, he was the perfect gentleman, that never failed to charm her.

But this time was different, when she saw, what could only be described as her nemesis, walking down the street towards them.

Caroline used to work alongside Clara at the hospital, and she had to be the most competitive person she had ever met. Caroline was obsessed with being the best at everything, or the first to do or have something. She'd gloated incessantly about how she was the first of the nurses to get married. And after she had been, none of the other nurses were sorry to see her leave.

"Quick, hold my hand" she told him, grabbing his sleeve to pull his hand out of his pocket, and intertwine it in hers

"What?" He asked, both confused and surprised at her sudden forwardness

"Just, pretend be to be my date" she said, "Please"

"Okay" he chuckled, squeezing her hand, moving closer to her. And Clara had the sneaking suspicion that he would enjoy the facade.

"Clara" called out Caroline, in her sickly sweet voice, Clara plastering on a fake smile, "Oh darling, how are you. And who is this?"

"James" said Bucky, pulling Clara in closer to him, Caroline leaning into her husband, who looked no happier then any of the other times Clara had seen him

"Oh, are we interrupting a date?" Caroline asked, and Clara eagerly nodded, "Oh, you know I tried to set Clara here, up with my brother-in-law" she told Bucky, "But she was so focused on work. I thought she'd stay single forever"

Clara forced out a laugh, pressing against Bucky's side, eager for this encounter to end. Bucky sensing her discomfort, began to pull her away.

"It's been nice to meet you" he said, "But we've gotta date to get to"

"Well, it was lovely to see you again" said Caroline, "We should catch up"

"Defintely" said Clara, nodding to her old colleague, only sparing her a second glance after they walked away, to see if she was still in earshot.

"Thank you, for that" she said to Bucky, as they strolled down the street, "I just couldn't stand her gloating to me about her marriage, and her implications that I am destined for spinsterhood"

"Well, personally I'd prefer you not to remain single, but, whatever makes you happy" he said, "Though, I'd be lying if I said I would be enjoy seeing you with your friends brother-in-law"

"Oh, don't worry, he was an absolute stick in the mud" she said, "And you know how intolerable I am to boring"

"Oh, I do" he said, leaning it to whisper in her ear, "And, you know, you haven't let go of my hand yet"

"Well" she said, looking up into his eyes, "Maybe I don't want to"

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 **Hope you enjoyed it, there will be many more one-shots to come.**


	2. Chapter 2 - HowardxClara

**This chapter has multiple prompts, and as such, they will be in bold.**

 **This is set after Lizzy died and Clara gained her abilities, but before her and Howard divorced.**

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 **Chapter Two**

The rain lashed the windows, pouring down from the dark grey clouds that engulfed the house. The living room was cold, and it bit at the skin of her exposed arms, but Clara failed to care. From her spot on the lounge, her eyes were trained on the windows, looking out, and beyond.

"It's freezing in here" said Howard, walking into the room, "Do you want me to put the fire on?" He asked her, but she didn't reply. The cold didn't bother her, she relished in it. It reminded her that she was here, that this was real.

"You okay?" He asked, reaching out to lay his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off

"I'm fine" she muttered, bringing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them

"No, you're not" he said, " **There always seems to be something upsetting you** "

"Well it's not like I don't have a reason to be" she snapped, "I'm sorry I'm not a ray of sunshine"

" **That's not what I meant and you know it** "

"I don't know anything anymore" she said softly

What was there to know? The world had taken away so much from her; Lizzy, Bucky, Steve. And all that it left her with, this change in her. The world had taken what she loved, and her abilities were not compensation. They were a curse. She was a monster.

"I know, you think it's my fault" he said, "And it is, it's all my fault, and I'm so sorry"

"No, I don't" she said, turning her head to look at him, " **I don't blame you** , I never did"

 _I blame myself_.

Howard still didn't know the full story, no one did, and no one would. It was her secret, and hers alone. Her pain. Her torment. Her anger. Her grief. It was her burden to bare. No one else's.

" **Do you love me?** " He asked, and she could hear the hopelessness in his voice, like he'd already given up. And why not, she had.

"Yes", and it wasn't a lie. Throughout everything, she never stopped loving him, perhaps she never would. But sometimes, love just wasn't enough. And if it wasn't enough, then nothing was. Nothing could save them.

"Well, **do you want to be with me?** "

"I don't know"

"I'm trying, Clara" he whispered, "I want to help you. Let me help you"

"I don't want help"

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to leave" she screamed, " **The door is over there**. Why don't you use it?"

It was a threat she'd used before, on countless of occasion in numerous arguments, mostly out of the knowledge that he'd never heed her words. But she wasn't sure anymore. She wasn't sure of anything.

"Because I love you, I know that. And I'm not giving in" he said, "I'll fight for us both"

"Don't bother" she muttered, getting up from the chair, to storm past him, stamping up the stairs, and into her room

The bedroom was in disarray. The sheets tangled up, empty glasses on the bedside table. The chair was broken, and mirror shattered from the last time she'd lost control, only a few hours ago. Normally, the mess would disturb her, but she found it oddly comfortable. Chaos was natural to her now.

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 **Hope you enjoyed it, please review and tell me what you think.**

 **Check out my poll and vote who your favourite love interest for Clara is. You can find it on my profile.**


	3. Chapter 3 - CharliexClara

**This is a Charlie/Clara one-shot. Prompt in bold.**

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 **Chapter Three**

 _Prompt: "Excuse me, did the 12:15 bus come by already?"_

 _April 1973_

It was a warm spring day at the bus stop, the trees were green, flowers in bloom, birds playing their usual melody. A fantastic orchestra of sights, and sounds, and smells. But Clara's mind was stuck in winter, with cold, and ice, and blood covered snow.

"Excuse me, did the 12:15 bus come by already?" Said a man, and Clara jerked her head up

He was a tall, brown haired, young man, dressed in his army greens, a cheeky grin on his face, "Didn't mean to startle you, sorry,"

"No, no, it's okay." She said, shaking her head, pulling herself back to reality, "I'm sorry," - she looked down at her watch to check - "but it did. Why, where are you heading?"

"Nowhere just yet." He said, "You?"

"New York."

"What's there?" He asked, taking the seat beside her

"Home." Clara told him, looking down at her hands folded in her lap, "Or, at least it used to be."

"Me too, huh, what a coincidence." He said, "My name's Charlie Jones, by the way. What's yours?", sticking out his hand

"I'm Clara." She told him, the name seeming almost foreign to her. Because, even though she had used a version of it during her last mission, it wasn't the same. She reached out her hand, giving his a quick shake, recoiling hers back to her lap. "How long were you over there?" She asked, gesturing down to his uniform

"Two tours, joined straight out of high school, always wanted to be a soldier," he said, wringing his hands together in his lap, "It wasn't what I expected."

"War never is."

He didn't comment on her forlorn expression, and she was greatful. If he'd asked, she could have quite easily spun an intricate tale. But lies had worn her out.

"Where in New York are you from?" Charlie asked, drawing her back to the present

"Brooklyn," she said, "But, before that, Westchester."

"Ooh, you one of those trust fund kids living in mansions." he teased, the jovial smirk on his face so entertaining, she couldn't help but return the smile, "Don't worry, so am I," he whispered, as if it was his deepest darkest secret he was confiding in her, "I'm sure you can imagine how disappointed they were when I joined the military. They wanted me to become a doctor."

"My dad was a doctor," she said, wistfully, "I was a nurse, for awhile..."

"What do you do now?"

"Uh, I'm, currently in between jobs right now," she said, "Not, really sure what I'm gonna do."

"Do you miss being a nurse?"

"Yes. But, I, I couldn't do it again." She said, "It just, I just couldn't. It wouldn't work"

Helping others, saving lives, it was foreign and unnatural to her now. All she knew now, is blood and death. But never her own. No. She was always spared.

"So, you start again," he suggested, "Clean slate. Fresh start."

"Clean slate" she huffed, "Sounds nice, but it easier said then done."

"Nothing that's worth it's ever easy" he told her, and she cocked her head in agreement, "So, what time does your bus come?"

"1:00, why?"

"So I know what bus to get a ticket for." he shrugged, grinning at the incredous expression on her face, "What? I figure, you're going to New York, I might as well go there too. Visit my family. Haven't got any better plans." He explained, "Besides. I think I'd quite enjoy talking to you for the four hour bus ride"

"And what if I wouldn't enjoy talking to you?"

"Trust me, you will."

And she did.

It was a nice, warm, normal conversation. Sure, she'd say some odd things here and there, she wasn't on guard so things slipped through, but he never brought attention to them. It was refreshing, a little strange, by good. It had been so long for her. So long, since she had a normal conversation with a normal person. Not about work, or a mission. Not filled with veiled lies and hidden meanings. Honest and open. Moreso, then she'd been with anyone in a long time.

And so, she was filled with a familiar melancholy as they reached their destination. A wistful smile pulling at her lips. She longed for that distant normalcy, even just a hint of it. But it would not be. Not for her. Never for her.

"Maybe, we could, go, out to dinner?" He asked her, as the bus came to a stop

"Uh, um, I can't, do that, not yet, anyway" she stammered, her eyes wide, her mind flicking back to the events just a few months prior. But this wasn't a mission. No one was hunting them. And yet, she was still running.

Running, from a man with a metal arm, from the snow covered in her lover's blood, from the way he whispered her name with his last breath.

"Okay then." He shrugged, "Dinner as friends then."

"Yeah, I think, I'd like that"

* * *

 **Hope you liked it, first time we've actually seen Charlie, and I hope you liked him.**

 **Please vote on my poll as to who your favourite love interest for Clara is, especially now that you've seen her most of the ones that have been revealed.**


	4. Chapter 4 - MattxClara

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

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 _"In the space between chaos and shape there was another chance."_

 _Jeanette Winterson_

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 **Chapter Four**

 _20th December, 2010_

The trees of Central Park were bare, though snow was yet to fall, winter had defintely descended upon them. But Clara was familiar with New York weather. Even so, she was rugged up in her coat, scarf and beanie. Just as everyone else around her was.

Having spent the better part of the year back in the city, familiarity was setting back in, and she was beginninv to feel like, maybe, possibly, she was home again. Or at least very close. She'd missed the hustle and bustle of the people, and found herself enjoying simply watching everyone. And wondering. Who they were? What they were doing? Had they always lived in the city? Had they recently moved? Where were they going? Who were they meeting?

But she wasn't watching anyone during her stroll; a strange phenomenona as she was usually constantly alert, and she reasoned that it was due to her reduced work load Which was why she was so startled when someone suddenly directed conversation towards her.

" **Some weather we're having, huh?** "

"What?" Clara breathed out, turning her eyes to look at who had addressed her

It was a man, perhaps around her age, or at least the age she looked instead of her real one. There wasn't many that looked her actual age, most of them were dead. He was tall and pale, with dark hair that appeared to have a red tinge to it. His eyes obscured from her view by red glasses, a cane in his hands.

 _He was blind_ , she realised, _and quite attractive_.

"Uh, yeah, I suppose it is really cold." She agreed, "I'm, used to it, I guess. Lived here most of my life."

"Where are you from?"

"Manhatten now, Brooklyn before that, and Westchester before that." She explained, leaving out the periods of time which she didn't reside in the state, or even the country, "You?"

"Hell's Kitchen."

"Ah, another native." She remarked, "Do you live here permanently, or are you home for the holidays?"

"Bit of both." He replied, "I go to Columbia, I'm back here with my roommate, spending Christmas with his family."

"That's nice." Clara smiled, wanting to know more, but quelling her curiosity in favour of respecting his privacy, "So, Columbia, you must be a smart cookie."

"I'd hope so." He chuckled, "What about you?"

"I went to Princeton, studied pyschology. I'm a fully qualified psychologist." She informed him, "So, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"I prefer to listen."

"That's always an admirable quality." Clara agreed, smiling to herself, glad that this man had struck up a conversation with her, "Oh, I don't even know your name." She realised, sticking out her hand, "I'm Clara."

"Matt."

When he made no move to shake her hand, she realised her mistake.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she stammered, "I have my hand out for you to shake, but of course, you can't see that, because you're blind. Oh, I probably shouldn't have said that, should I. We don't really know each other well enough to joke about that. Or are you okay with it? You're probably not, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - "

"It's okay." Matt said, interrupting her rambling, "I didn't take offense at all."

"That's good."

"Do you still want to shake my hand?" He asked, passing his cane over to his other hand, before extending the free one out to her

"What?" She asked, "Oh right, uh, yeah."

Matt chuckled at her awkwardness, as they slowly shook hands, and Clara's cheeks grew red. Usually, she was quite composed. This was a refreshing change for her.

"Do I get to know your last name?" She asked, wanting to shift the focus from her, "So, I can properly stalk you after this, and learn everything about you, in a totally non-creepy way."

"It's Murdock, Matt Murdock."

"Like Bond, James Bond."

"Exactly." He agreed, "You?"

"Howard, Clara Howard." She replied, "Secret spy extraordinare."

"What a profession." Matt laughed out breezily, "Where you heading somewhere? I feel like I've held you up."

"No, I was just heading home." She said, "You didn't hold me up, not at all."

"Good." He replied, "Would you like me to walk you home?" Matt asked, holding out his arm, "I'm afraid you'll have to lead, and steer."

"Sure." Clara nodded, trying, and failing, to hide her eagerness as she wrapped her arm around his, continuing along the pathway

The walk home was quite entertaining, and not at all tiring. In fact, time seemed to fly, and soon enough, they were at the door to her apartment. And Clara found that she had no wish to say goodbye whatsoever.

"Will you get home alright?" She inquired, "I mean, not to suggest you're incapable, I was just concerned, about, your well being. I mean, I would hate if you, got hit by a car, or something."

"I'll be fine." Matt assured her, "Can I, see you again?" He asked, "Coffee, maybe?"

"Uh, yeah, sure thing, I'd love to." Clara agreed, "Do we, exchange numbers, or what?" She asked, "In case you can't tell, which I'm sure you can because it's pretty obvious, but I haven't done this in a while."

A while being an understatement. Fifteen years being the correct amount of time. Well, technically since the 70's actually.

Matt laughed at her, before relaying his number to her, with her then giving him her own. Along with a promise to call.

"So, uh, I guess this is, I'll see you later." She muttered, nervously

"I guess this is."

"I, um." She started, looking up at his bemused smirk

In a split second decision, she leaned up, pressing her lips to his cheek. His skin was smooth, clean shaven, and he smelt good too. She couldn't quite decide what his scent was, but it warmed her insides.

"I'm glad you spoke to me, Matt."

"I'm glad too." He agreed, "How about tomorrow?"

"Okay." She nodded, "I, guess I'll call you then."

"I hope you do."

"I will."

"Are you going to go inside?" He asked, gesturing to the door she had left open, which she supposed he must have heard and figured out the position of, considering he couldn't see it, "I think you're letting the warmth out."

"What? Oh, yeah, right." She muttered, stepping away, and inside her apartment, clutching the door in her hand, "So, I'll see you tomorrow. Murdock, Matt Murdock."

"I'll see you tomorrow." He affirmed, "Howard. Clara Howard."

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed it, I've added Matt to the poll, so if you want to vote for him you can.**


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